


In the Woods Somewhere

by sequence_fairy



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Haunted Houses, I wanted certain things to happen in S6, Leeds is a real place, M/M, Supernatural Elements, Suspense, and they did not, bring back the ghoulboys sleepovers so help me god, so i wrote a fic where they happen instead, the haunted house is not (to my knowledge at any rate)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 18:34:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: “I’m Ryan,” Ryan says, into the quiet. “This is Shane. We’d like to make contact with anyone still here and able to speak.”Across the table, Shane shifts. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sing-songs. Ryan can’t help the way his mouth curves into a grin.“I’m gonna open the floor,” Ryan says, after another moment of silence. “So, if anyone’s here who has something to say, now’s the time.”“Yeah,” Shane agrees, “speak now or forever hold your peace.” Ryan kicks him under the table, but Shane chuckles, unrepentant.Or: The house on Jackdaw Hill has a history, and Shane and Ryan get more than they bargained for.





	In the Woods Somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Hallowe'en, boils and ghouls! 
> 
> As stated, I had several desires for S6, and several of those did not materialize, so I thought I should write a fic where they happened because what is fanfic if not personal wish fulfillment? And then I remembered it was gonna be Hallowe'en, so I decided to make it spooky and this is what we ended up with. 
> 
> Thanks to [Kelsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose) for the beta, and to my Thirsty Witches for the original impetus. 
> 
> I hope your spooky season is a delight, dear reader.

Ryan doesn’t do a whole lot of his own research these days, happily letting the team of people whose job it is, do it. It leaves him more time to hunt down sponsorships for other episodes he wants to do, pester Shane into playing another round of foosball in the break lounge, and to look up more places they might be able to visit. It also means that Ryan doesn’t do a whole lot of setting the schedule for their travel. 

Sometimes, this means that the show takes them to places in the wrong season entirely. 

Case in point, Ryan thinks, as they’re driving down a two-lane highway in North Dakota at the tail end of March. Shane’s hands are white-knuckled around the steering wheel as he fights against the gusty wind that sends drifts of snow across the pavement, obscuring the road in front of them. 

“This is real shitty,” Shane says, and Ryan agrees, fervently. Somewhere behind them, is the rest of the crew in the bigger car that Shane and Ryan had opted out of, because Shane didn’t want to be crammed into the backseat, legs folded up around his ears. 

The sign for the city limits of Leeds appears out of the swirling white and with it, the admonishment to ‘Drive Like Your Children Live Here’. Ryan cuts a glance to Shane to find him looking back, and they both laugh.

***

The hotel is quaint, but their room is warm from the furnace chugging away under the window. It’s still snowing. They’d helped schlep the gear up from the cars and then been left to their own devices.

“I hope we can get out to the place tomorrow,” Ryan says, peering out the window into the gathering dark. The wind sends a skirl of snow against the pane and Ryan shivers.

Shane makes a noise from where he’s sprawled, face-down, on one of the beds. He had keeled over as soon as he’d toed off his shoes, like he’d been cut off at the knees.

Ryan doesn’t want to be cooped up, so he turns away from the window and drags his duffel up off the floor and dumps it onto the bed not currently occupied by one long tall, friend-shaped cryptid. Pulling the zip makes Shane lift his head. 

“What’re you doing, Ry?” Shane asks, and Ryan looks up from where he’s got his hands buried nearly elbow deep into the bowels of his bag. 

“Finding another sweater. I wanna go get something to eat.”

“Can’t we just order pizza?” Shane complains, but he’s already rolling over and pushing himself to his feet. 

Ryan tugs on another layer and then pulls on his coat before shoving a beanie down over his hair. Shane shrugs on his own coat, and follows Ryan out the door and down the long hallway to the exit. They step out into the wind, and the door slams shut behind them. Ryan jumps.

Shane knocks his shoulder against Ryan’s, smile wide with laughter. Ryan flips him off.

They share a pizza at the only place that’s still open along the main drag. The sauce is scalding hot, the cheese gooey, and the beer is local and frigid cold. They’re the only people in the place, except the cook whistling in the back and the server who is old enough to be both of their mother. 

She happens to walk by as Ryan’s telling Shane a little bit about the history of the location they’re visiting tomorrow. 

“You two going up to Jackdaw Hill?” She asks, setting another round of beer down on the table between them. 

Ryan looks up, meeting her gaze. There's shrewdness in her eyes, but nothing that sets off warning bells, and Ryan is always game for local flavour when he spins the story on camera. “Know anything about the place?” 

“You boys be careful up there,” she says and Shane scoffs. Her gaze cuts to him, and her expression must be something because Shane’s eyes widen and he swallows whatever remark he was going to make. 

“You city kids,” she says, shaking her head, “comin’ out here to take a gawk at the old house on the hill.” 

Ryan’s all ready to launch into the spiel about how they’re here to film a show for Youtube, and they’d love to hear her stories about the house at the top of Jackdaw Hill, and that he’s very sorry for his idiot friend who can’t keep his fucking mouth shut to save his life, but she smiles and picks up their empty bottles and turns away from the table. 

“You boys be careful up there,” Shane drawls, low enough that only Ryan can hear. He’s clearly amused by the server’s warning. Ryan kicks him under the table but Shane does nothing but grin cheekily. 

“Someday, your cavalier attitude is gonna come back to bite you square on the ass,” Ryan grouses.

The conversation moves on to other things and they finish the pizza and another round of beers before Ryan pushes himself away from the table to settle their tab. 

“I’m sorry about my friend earlier,” he says, when he gets to the counter. Their server looks up from where she’s adding up their bill on her notepad. 

“He’s the skeptic then?” She asks, and Ryan nods, handing over the company credit card. “The house on Jackdaw Hill’s made a believer out of everyone who’s spent a night in it,’ she says, fitting the card carefully into an old-fashioned manual card reader. It makes a horrible grating noise as she slides the pieces across each other, etching the number onto transfer paper. 

“Have you ever been up there?” Ryan asks, while she separates the copies and hands him the one he has to sign. 

“Not on your life,” she says. “I’ve never needed any help believin’.” She takes the signed slip back and hands Ryan the card. “Be careful,” she warns, keeping hold of the card, “they’ll take a shine to you.” 

Ryan shivers, and the fine hairs on his arms rise in a tide of goosebumps. The server lets go of the card, and smiles, but it seems somehow hollow. Ryan steps back, and fumbles the card into his wallet and then shoves his wallet back into the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Y’all have a good night now,” she calls, as Ryan walks away from the counter. 

Shane looks up from his phone where he’d been leaning against the doorjamb. He raises his eyebrows. “You okay, man? You’re white as a sheet. Seen a g-g-g-ghost?” Shane’s voice is playful, but the hand on the small of Ryan’s back is a grounding weight. 

Back outside in the snow, Ryan sucks in a huge breath of the startlingly cold air. “Jesus,” he wheezes, and looks back over his shoulder at the pizza place. Inside, he can see the server laughing at the counter and something hot and embarrassed turns over in his stomach. She’d been having a go, and he’d bought it, like the gullible idiot he is. 

“It’s nothing,” Ryan says, and Shane, to his credit, doesn’t push, just falls into step beside Ryan. They trek back to the hotel, and stomp snow off their boots as they enter the lobby. Ryan empties his pockets onto the desk in the hotel room, and his eyes catch on the words scrawled on the bottom of the receipt from the pizzeria. It says ‘Thanks! Deb’ in looping script. Ryan tucks the receipt into his wallet beside the company card. 

***

The house on Jackdaw Hill is imposing and gently derelict. It’s going to look great on camera.

“Kinda feels like the Bates’ house,” Shane says, as they get out of the car and gather in a loose circle in the drive. 

He’s right, with the central tower and the weathered but still trying for grandeur look of the place. Even if Ryan didn’t start out thinking the place was haunted, he probably would now. Shane, for his part, tilts his head back to take in the whole of the front façade, shading his eyes against the glare of the muted winter sunlight. There’s a few boarded up windows on the ground floor, but otherwise, it looks mostly intact. 

They’re met by the caretaker of the property, who explains in broad strokes where they can and cannot go and what they should watch out for inside. The house has no power, no running water and will be cold as hell through the night, but they’re okay to build a small fire in the kitchen fireplace, if they need it. 

Ryan already knows they’re not sleeping in the kitchen. He plans to have them sleeping in the master bedroom, beneath the craggy hole in the ceiling where a chandelier came down in the middle of the night and impaled the couple who’d lived here once upon a time. Ryan already hates the very idea, but he knows Shane will love the gruesome story.

Filming goes well, and as the light dies outside, the shadows inside lengthen. 

It’ll be a good episode, Ryan thinks, as they wave goodbye to the rest of the crew from the front porch. Even Shane’s invested in the history of the place, bloody and tragic as it is. When the red tail lights of the crew vehicle disappear over the crest of the hill at the base of the drive, Ryan turns to Shane. They’re alone now.

Shane’s looking down at him already, grinning wide and unencumbered. “Ghoul boys sleepover!” He declares, raising a fist slowly into the air in a semblance of triumph. There’s real happiness in the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles though. Ryan can’t help but smile back.

It’s been years since they’ve done this. Ryan has read enough of the comments online to know that even though they never get anything on their sleepovers, really, it’s still something the audience really likes to see. Just means he’ll have hours of empty footage to review when they get back to LA, and that’s a small price to pay for what he’s pretty sure is going to be the crowning episode of this season.

“You coming?” Shane asks, turning back towards the house. Ryan takes one last, long look at the front yard, snow-covered and silent, before following Shane back inside.

Later that night finds Ryan and Shane standing in the middle of an old formal dining room, body cams trained on each other. Shane’s flashlight is standing in the centre of the table, casting odd shadows on the walls around them. 

“Spiritualism was huge in the late 19th, early 20th century,” Ryan says, both to fill the silence and for the audience back home as he paces the length of the table and then back towards Shane again. Anxiety hums under his skin, more than usual. “I read there used to be a regular séance circle here.” 

Ryan reaches down for a backpack he stashed in this room when they came through to set up the static cams earlier in the day. “I thought we could give it a go, too.” 

Shane laughs, clearly thrilled. “Yeah, okay,” he says. Shane’s easy agreement makes Ryan smile. He knows Shane’s always game to do whatever Ryan decides they need to do, and he’s perfectly willing to go along with this too, especially since he’ll probably get to use it to tease Ryan later. 

Ryan pulls out six, thick, white candles, and sets them up in a circle around Shane’s flashlight. 

“You got a light?” Ryan asks, hand out. Shane hands over his lighter and Ryan makes quick work of lighting the candles. For several moments, Ryan fusses with the portable tripod, before setting his camera onto it, and then going around the table to check the angle. “Sit down, would ya? I wanna check the frame.” 

Shane strips his own camera off, setting it down on the outside of the ring of candlelight and grabs a chair from further down the table, placing it at the centre point of the circle of candles. Ryan gives him a thumbs up from behind the camera.

“Okay,” Ryan says, sitting down in his own chair across the table from Shane. The flickering candlelight throws Shane’s face into strange shadows, making his eyes seem bottomlessly dark. Ryan swallows, fighting the urge to wipe his suddenly sweating hands against his thighs. 

“Okay,” he says again, and Shane raises an eyebrow at him before lifting his hands and letting them hang in the air across the table. 

“We doing this, little guy?” Shane asks, and Ryan nods, decisively, reaching out to take Shane’s hands in his own. 

Generally speaking, even Ryan thinks most séances are bullshit, and they’ve never had any luck with this before, so he’s not expecting this time to be any different. He still takes a deep, centering breath before nodding at Shane. Shane grins back. 

Ryan closes his eyes. He trusts that Shane will take the cue and do the same, but he doesn’t open his eyes to check. One of the things he likes the most about Shane is how willing his friend is to just roll with everything. There’s no protracted arguments, there’s no push for more explanations; Ryan says he wants to do a séance and Shane’s reaching out to hold his hands across a dusty table, lit by flickering candlelight and nothing else. 

As if Shane can hear him thinking, he squeezes Ryan’s fingers with his own. It’s just enough pressure to reassure, but not enough that anyone who isn’t currently holding hands with Shane will notice. 

Ryan breathes carefully, eyes still closed. It’s meditative, sitting here with Shane. His mind quiets, until the only stray thoughts are that he hopes the camera was set at a good angle and a brief diversion into what Shane might be thinking about across the table. After he deems that enough time has passed, Ryan speaks. 

“Anyone here with us?” 

Nothing answers. Which, Ryan notes, to himself and no one else, is not a surprise, but it is still, as always, a disappointment. He hopes he manages to keep the feeling off his face, but he probably fails. He’ll find out later when he reviews the footage once they get back to LA. 

“I’m Ryan,” Ryan says, into the quiet, ignoring the way his voice wavers as he says his name. It’s always difficult for him to give his own name to the things in the dark, whatever they might be. “This is Shane. We’d like to make contact with anyone still here and able to speak.” 

Across the table, Shane shifts. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he sing-songs. Ryan can’t help the way his mouth curves into a grin.

“I’m gonna open the floor,” Ryan says, after another moment of silence. “So, if anyone’s here who has something to say, now’s the time.” 

“Yeah,” Shane agrees, “speak now or forever hold your peace.” Ryan kicks him under the table, but Shane chuckles, unrepentant.

"We're shutting up now," Ryan says, aiming what he hopes is a serious look at Shane across the table, but since he has his eyes closed, he has no idea if he's even looking at Shane.

Regardless of whether Ryan looks appropriately stern, Shane goes quiet and the ambient noise of the house rises around them.

A few minutes pass, without incident. Ryan's beginning to think this séance will be a dud too, when all the hair on the back of his neck stands up all at once.  He shivers.

There's still no sound, just the far away swish of traffic on the freeway and the creak of Shane moving in his chair.

Ryan's ears pop and he jumps, jostling the table. Shane's grip on his hands tightens.

"You okay?" Shane whispers. Ryan swallows, working his jaw to get his ears to release. They do, eventually.

"Did you feel that?" Ryan asks, barely above a whisper himself. He wants to open his eyes, but he can't seem to. Goosebumps prickle down Ryan's spine, and the hair rises on his arms, like he's stepped outside into a cold morning. He can feel the chill of sweat drying at his hairline.

"I don't feel anything," Shane says, but he doesn’t sound entirely convinced of his own words.

"Feels like something's watching me," Ryan says, low. It's like eyes on the back of his neck, like someone staring at him from across the room. He wants to turn and look, but that means letting go of Shane and it feels equally important that he does not do that. The candles gutter, their light shifting suddenly behind Ryan's closed eyes.

"Ooo," Shane says, raising his voice to the room at large. "Any ghosties here having a look at ol' Ryan over there?"

"Shut up, Shane," Ryan grouses, but the banter helps distract him from the ominous presence of whatever is behind him. He can feel it now, like a heavy shadow. He shifts closer to the table in his chair. The edge of the table digs into his stomach, but Ryan presses forward anyway. He wants to get away from the presence at his back.

Shane sucks in a breath across the table, like he does when he's been startled. Ryan really wants to open his eyes now, because he has to know what made Shane do that. Ryan tightens his grip on Shane’s hands.

"Ryan," Shane says, and there's something weird in his voice. "Ryan, what... what are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," Ryan says. Fear spreads like an oil slick across his nervous system, he can feel his hands going clammy and his heart rate going up. Every small noise seems deafeningly loud.

A door slams in another part of the house. Ryan jumps again, knocking the table with his knees. The candles wobble but don't fall.

"Thought you said we had the place to ourselves tonight," Shane says, almost like he’s asking a question.

"We do," Ryan confirms, but it’s closer to a question than Ryan would like.

The presence at Ryan's back grows impossibly more weighty. "Shane," Ryan says, beyond caring that his voice sounds this thready on camera, "Shane, something's here."

"Something like what?" Shane asks, and Ryan knows he’s trying for unaffected but Shane sounds unnerved in his own way.

"Don't know," Ryan answers shortly, unsure how to best describe what feels like a mass of shadow that he doesn't dare turn around to look at except that the only thing he wants to do is just that. He's probably holding Shane's hands too tightly, but somehow, he knows that he cannot let go. He wonders if the camera can pick up the fine tremor that's running through his whole body, wonders what he’ll find when he looks at the footage later.

"It's behind me," Ryan says. His heart is thundering in his chest, and his blood roars in his ears. He can feel himself shaking but can’t seem to make it stop.

"I'm gonna open my eyes--"

"No!" Ryan's voice breaks on the syllable. "Don't. Don't look at it," he says, naked pleading in his voice. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Shane scoffs. "C'mon Ry," he says. 

Ryan shakes his head. "No," he repeats.

Shane pulls on his hands, like he wants to get Ryan to let him go. "Don't break the circle," Ryan says, his voice unfamiliar to his own ears. 

"The circle? What? Ryan, what're you--c'mon, let me go.”

Ryan holds on tight. He doesn't think he could let go even if he wanted to. Something cold brushes against the back of Ryan's neck, and warm, fetid breath rushes past Ryan’s cheek. Ryan squeezes his eyes shut tight, and sends up a desperate prayer.

"Hello Ryan," says the thing behind Ryan and all the candles go out in a gust of wind. 

Ryan screams.

* * *

> **Youtube Stars Missing After Haunted House Visit** **   
** _ Ann Stewart, Staff Reporter for Benson County Farmer’s Press  _
> 
> Rising talent at Buzzfeed Inc., Ryan Bergara, 29, and Shane Madej, 33, both of Los Angeles, CA, are missing after visiting a purportedly haunted house just outside of Leeds, ND. The visit coincided with the filming of the seventh season of their wildly popular supernatural investigation show, Buzzfeed Unsolved, that sees the pair of hosts visit supposedly haunted locations in an attempt to determine whether ghosts are real and if so, obtain proof on camera. 
> 
> Bergara and Madej arrived in Leeds on the night of March 28th, and were expected to return to L.A. on April 1st. They were reported missing by their filming crew on the morning of March 30th after they did not return to their hotel. Local search efforts remain without success. 
> 
> The home they were scheduled to visit is situated on Jackdaw Hill and is the subject of intense local legend. Several disappearances and deaths are associated with the property, and other occurrences have been reported. Local woman, Deb Taylor, says she spoke to the pair on the night of March 28th, and that she warned them of the danger at the property. “Strange things go on up there,” she said, “I told them to be careful.”
> 
> The Sheriff's office would not comment on an open and active investigation, but have requested that anyone who may have witnessed anything unusual that night to come forward. They also thank all volunteers who joined the search parties. 
> 
> They remind the public as well that the men had permission to film at the location but that it is a privately owned building and as such, trespassing is prohibited. Any information about this case can be provided to the Benson County Sheriff’s office, by contacting them directly, or anonymously to Crime Stoppers.

**Author's Note:**

> Please come and chat with me about my fic on [tumblr](http://sequencefairy.tumblr.com) or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/warpspeed_chic).


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